


Find You In A Burning Sky

by Macremae



Category: EOS 10 (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Oslo is Osolong theory, Soulmate AU, soulmate wrist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:47:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The words on the insides of his wrists, however, tell a different story. One bears the name of his soulmate, the other his worst enemy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>The catch? He doesn't know which is which.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Find You In A Burning Sky

**Author's Note:**

> sadhipstercat and I were dicking around on tumblr's IM and thought up this little gem. Go forth and enjoy.

There are many things on Ryan’s arms. 

Scars, mostly. Some of them make for good stories to share, about two rough-and-tumble twins with an unfortunate penchant for mischief. Some of them are kept to himself. Each serves as a reminder and a lesson. Don't throw water balloons at trick-or-treaters in the dark. Cats, in fact, are never, ever thankful for being rescued from trees. Smiling people in alleyways rarely offer something good.

There are a lot of reminders of that.

The words on the insides of his wrists, however, tell a different story. One bears the name of his soulmate, the other his worst enemy.

The catch? He doesn't know which is which.

\--

When the story breaks about the terrorist who blew up the Adrearian Sector, Ryan looks at the name on the left for ages. He wears long sleeves more often; there are less questions that way. A silent promise is made to those who were killed: that name will be remembered.

Akmazian.

\--

When Jane catches a glimpse of the name on the right, she makes a lot of high pitched noises.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me?!” she squeals.

Ryan removes his hands from his ears and asks, “What?”

Jane does not stop making high pitched noises. She does, however, reply with, “That you had Dr. Osolong on your wrist!”

“ _What_?” 

“Oh, you know, just the guy who's been hitting on you ever since he arrived last week!”

Ryan, in fact, did not know this. It does explain the odd looks though. Despite himself, he can't help but feel a little excited. 

He’s met his _soulmate_.  
\--

“You've got a lot of nerve just being _you_.”

They're face to face (well, as much as they can be with the monumentally unfair height difference), Ryan staring up at Akmazian with a mixture of defiance, aggrevation, and just a _little_ bit of nervousness. Mainly because of the giant plasma rifle in front of him. 

Their eyes lock for a few moments, and Ryan’s beginning to regret talking back to the **literal terrorist** when Akmazian does the last thing he expects him to do.

He starts laughing.

Despite having a very nice laugh (which is irrelevant and stupid and why the hell did he think that in the first place?), it’s kind of unnerving. Mainly because when mass murderers start laughing, it usually doesn’t mean anything good. 

Ryan steps back a little, regarding the other man cautiously. At least, until he starts talking again.

“I like you.”

There are a lot of thoughts that go through Ryan’s head then, but the most prevailing one is a very clever and eloquent _Um_. He becomes acutely aware of the word on his left wrist, and unconsciously wraps his other hand around it. He’s also aware of his face burning hotter than it should have any right to around his mortal enemy, but he can’t really do anything about that. 

Akmazian’s smiling now. His smile’s also pretty nice. Wow, Ryan’s brain must be lacking a lot of blood to think like that.

Obviously.

“And I don’t like a lot of people.” Akmazian continues. “Okay. You're not an Alliance spy. You're here ‘cause you're sick. Prove it.”

“Prove it?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Show me.”

“What?”

Ryan really, _really_ hates the blood in his face tonight.

There isn’t exactly any other choice though, so he internally screams in utter mortification and proves that he’s not just running around in cargo bays for his own health.

And oh sweet Jesus that asshole is staring.

He actually has the nerve to ask, “Is it always that color?”

Ryan gives him a death stare in response and replies, “Not typically, no.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

Well, there are the little miracles.

After making himself decent (although tonight is rapidly redefining that definition), Ryan runs his left hand through his hair. It’s only after he notices Akmazian staring again that he realizes his mistake.

“Well I’ll be.”

Ryan feels his stomach drop into his shoes as Akmazian pushes up his right sleeve and displays the name on his wrist.

There are gasps behind him, and Jane asks, hurt, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How was I supposed to?” Ryan shoots back, spinning around to face her. “Oh hey guys, by the way, I have the name of the Alliance’s most wanted terrorist on my wrist. Just thought I should let you know!”

Jane opens her mouth to speak again, but decides against it. Ryan looks back at Akmazian, who is watching with an odd expression on his face. It almost looks like…

No. It’s not. No way in hell.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Ryan tells him. “It’s obvious you’re the enemy name.”

Akmazian raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Believe me, I’m sure of it.”

\--

Most people meet their soulmate before their mortal enemy, as they usually share the same rival. So, it’s a little awkward when Ryan first has an actual conversation with Dr. Osolong. He seems nice enough, and certainly appears interested. And yet, Ryan can’t bring himself to tell him about his wrist. 

He’s just nervous, that’s all. He’ll mention it another time.

\--

On the trip to retrieve Dr. Urvidian, Ryan does a lot of thinking.

Most of it centers around the man at the ship’s controls, who is currently trying very hard to solve a rubix cube. Ryan’s solved one more times than he can count, but he gets a little joy out of watching the terrorist struggle. 

It also gives him a chance to get a good look. There’s a scar under Akmazian’s right eye, and Ryan can’t help but wonder how he got it. Then he realizes that he actually feels a little empathy for him, and quickly moves on to thinking about something else. 

A few hours into the flight, he hears footsteps behind him as he stares out a window. 

“Worried?”

After getting over his initial surprise at the question (almost as if Akmazian were worried about _him_ ), Ryan turns and replies, “A little.”

Akmazian’s hand moves up slightly, but settles back at his side. “Well, you said yourself Levi’s a fighter. I doubt anyone like him would go down any way other than bitching at the top of his lungs.”

Ryan smiles in spite of himself. “You’re probably right.”

Akmazian grins back. “I usually am, darlin’.”

\--  
During what has been dubbed The Great Christmas Fiasco Where Levi Screwed Up and No One Was Surprised, Ryan was extremely thankful for his secret knowledge of Jane’s embarrassing childhood. Nice job, Ellie. 

He was not thankful for the reason he needed to use said knowledge, which Jane has not shut up about for the past few weeks.

“You seriously haven’t told him yet?” she asks over lunch.

Ryan fiddles with his spoon and shrugs. “It never came up.”

Jane sighs, exasperated. “Ryan, that’s not the sort of thing that just comes up in conversation. Are you gonna tell Dr. Osolong you think he’s your soulmate or not?”

He shrugs again and purposely stares down at his food. 

“You're not sure anymore, are you?”

Ryan jerks his head up and stares at Jane incredulously. “Wha- what are you talking about?”

Jane smiles smugly. “You're not so sure he’s your soulmate, are you?”

“Of course I am. There’s no way... yeah, no chance at all.”

It's Jane’s turn to shrug as she switches topics, but it's obvious she doesn't believe him.

\--

There's a call from an unknown number on Ryan's comms, and he has a pretty good idea who it might be. 

“Hey,” he says when Akmazian’s face fills the screen, “what's going on?”

His mouth is set oddly tight, and there's an almost pained look in his eyes. “Hey darlin’. So you know how I went to that Oslo guy a few months ago for information, he tried to screw me over, and I blew him up?”

Ryan’s a little concerned as to where this is going, but he nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, turns out I didn't blow him up as much as I thought.”

“Let me guess: he came back to ‘seek his vengeance’?”

“Yep.”

The camera shifts down to Akmazian’s leg, which is covered in quite a bit of blood. Ryan feels his heart leap into his throat.

“Oh my God, did he shoot you?”

“Yeah,” replies Akmazian from offscreen, “I got away, but he managed to get me in the leg. You ever done field surgery?”

“I- yes, just hold still, I’ll be right down.”

Ryan grabs a med kit from the infirmary and makes his way down to the cargo bay as fast as he can. Akmazian is there, sitting in a (thankfully) small pool of his own blood, holding his leg and cursing under his breath.

Kneeling down beside him, Ryan asks, “Is the bullet still in there?”

Akmazian gives him a look. “I don’t think it would be hurting this much if it wasn’t.”

“Okay,” he replies, and hands Akmazian a wad of cotton, “then bite down on this.”

“Why?”

Ryan sighs. “Because I have to take the bullet out, and you’re going to scream a lot, and loud noises coming from a supposedly abandoned cargo bay are the last thing we need right now.”

Akmazian takes a deep breath, nods, and puts the cotton in his mouth. Ryan gets a pair of tweezers out of the med kit, sterilizes them with rubbing alcohol, and holds them over the bloody hole. He cleans it off the best he can with another piece of cotton, then carefully lowers the tweezers in and pinches the bullet between them.

Throughout this process, Akmazian makes a lot of yelling noises that are mostly muffled by the makeshift gag. Ryan winces with each one, and it almost hurts him too.

After a lot of adjustments and wriggling, the bullet is pulled free. Ryan drops it onto the floor beside him, and hurriedly grabs more cotton to staunch the returning blood flow. 

“You okay?” he asks Akmazian, who responds by glaring at him. “Alright, stupid question.”

Ryan turns on the portable grafter and presses it down onto the wound, whose flow has slowed to a gurgle. Akmazian makes more pained yelping noises as the device pulls the broken skin together and seals it.

“Is that all Oslo did to you?” Ryan asks when the sealed area turns from an angry red to just inflamed. Akmazian nods and spits out the cotton. “Yeah, nothing else. I’m grateful it was just…”

He trails off, looking at something behind Ryan, who whips his head around and feels his heart skip a beat.

Dr. Osolong is standing behind him with a very large, very dangerous looking gun.

“Hello boys,” he says, smiling pleasantly, “fancy seeing you here.”

Akmazian returns the grin with a tight one of his own. “Oslo. Didn't realize you'd followed me.”

“Yes, I'm disappointed, Destroyer. You're usually so vigilant with that.”

“Well, you did shoot me in the leg with a centuries old gun. I was a bit distracted.”

Ryan’s eyes dart back between the two, confused. “Hold on,” he says “what is going here?”

Oslo’s gaze shifts to him. “Ah Dr. Dalias, I truly wish you didn't have to find out this way.”

“You've been lying the whole time?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“And you tried to blow Akmazian up?”

“That, I'm not so afraid of being so.”

Ryan shakes his head, trying to process all this. “Wait, hold on. If you're a crazy, murderous liar, then…”

It dawns on him and Akmazian at the same time. They both turn to look at each other in shock. 

“Oh my God,” they say in unison. 

“Yes, yes,” says Oslo flippantly, “you're both soul mates and madly in love, blah blah blah. Can we get to the killing part now?”

“Not really the plan,” Akmazian replies, regaining focus, and chucks the portable grafter at his face.

The thing is pretty heavy, and Oslo makes a sort of strangled noise when it hits him. Ryan takes advantage of this momentary lapse in mobility, and tackles him to the ground. He then pinches Oslo’s jugular vein, and neatly puts an end to _that_ problem.

He turns around to see Akmazian staring at him.

“What?”

“I'm considering getting up and kissing you right now, but I don't really think I'd make it three inches.”

Ryan’s face reddens. “Yeah, um, you're probably right. Not that I'd be adverse to, uh, y’know. The kissing thing.”

“Is it just because we know we’re soulmates now, or-”

“I- uh, I've been thinking about it longer than I'd like to admit.”

Akmazian smiles. “Trust me, I've been wanting to a lot longer.”

“How long are we talking here?”

“Moment I saw you.”

“Bullshit.”

“You're right, it was when you showed me your penis.”

Ryan blushes so hard, it's visible even in the dim light of the cargo bay. “Oh my God,” he says, covering his face with his hands, “you are never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Darlin’, I never want to forget.”

\--

They sit in the infirmary, holding hands. Akmazian has bandages and aloe on his leg and an IV drip in his arm, and is looking pretty at peace with the world. Ryan’s knuckles are bruised, there's an insanely complicated report on his desk waiting to be filled and he has a headache the size of Jupiter.

There's also the most infuriatingly wonderful man in the world sitting next to him, and goddamn if this isn't the happiest moment of his life.


End file.
